


Drunk Love

by msbt



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Drunk Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 11:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5162396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msbt/pseuds/msbt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from OTPBot: Your OTP in the morning after a night of drunk sex.</p>
<p>Daryl woke up in an unfamiliar bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk Love

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry I deleted the Sharyl fic I posted a while ago. Thanks for all the kudos, comments and bookmarks, they really meant a lot to me. I hope you enjoy this one.

The first thing he felt was his head pounding, so intense he thought it was going to explode. In fact it was what woke him up savagely. He didn't want to move or sit up at all, but the pain was a little too much, like someone was hitting him in the temple with a hammer repeatedly; he couldn't help but groan, burying his face into a pillow that was far too soft to be his own.

Yeah, it felt wrong. It wasn't his.

Daryl pushed himself up on his elbows, doing his damndest to ignore the throbbing ache in his head and the sickness in his chest. He was lying on his stomach in an unfamiliar bed, naked beneath the unfamiliar comforters. And more importantly, he was not alone.

A man, definitely, undoubtedly a man, sleeping beside him, face half buried in a pillow and his thick arm, the dark curls of his hair messy. His chest and shoulders were broad, looking like a sculpture, naked. Daryl remembered the man, remembered he had gone to a random bar and sat next to him by chance. He had ordered a drink for Daryl and smiled, talking about nothing, funny and lighthearted, with a good sense of humor and a touch of sarcasm that wasn't hurtful.

Daryl remembered that, but his memories of what had happened after that were blurred and befogged. And here he was, suffering a hangover, lying naked with this naked stranger whose name he didn't even know. That was when he noticed the sticky feeling of the crack of his ass and thighs. Fuck, fuck. _Fuck._

Head in his hands, gripping his dark long hair loosely, Daryl let out a low noise from deep in his throat. It was like he was a teenager again, chugging whatever could exhilarate his spirits and fooling around with whoever, just in order to avoid going back to his shitty house. Propping himself up again he found a used condom in the bin beside the bed, which relieved him a bit. Did nothing for the terrible headache and nausea, though.

He needed to drink twenty glasses of water and flush out the alcohol as soon as possible. He sat up with a groan, his rumpled hair falling into his eyes and around his face, mouth dry as dust. Finding his clothes scattering everywhere, on the floor near the door, over the lampshade on the nightstand, made him frown, embarrassing thinking about how frantically they must have made out. How he had grabbed the front of the man's shirt and crashed his lips hard on his, how they had devoured each other and fumbled to take their clothes off. The strong chest pressing Daryl against the wall, fingers tugging at his hair, knee forcing his thighs apart, their groins rubbing hard together. Breaths ragged and hot and short, skin sweaty and slick and warm, the sweet sweet frictionーthe memories flooded back all at once with the familiar tingling sensation deep in the pit of his stomach.

Yeah the sex had been rough and wild and incredible, the best one he had ever had, Daryl admitted. 

"Fuck." He could feel his cock react to the intense memories, a flush rising in his cheeks. The building heat within his body made his blood pulse fast and hard, only aggravating the pain in his head. When he was groaning with his hand pressed against his temple, he felt fingers brush his lower back. Flinching away Daryl whipped his head around, his widened eyes staring down at the man.

"Mornin'," the stranger mumbled, his soft brown eyes smiling up at him. Daryl's heart beat faster. "Who the hell are you."

"Already told you my name, Daryl."

The way he said his name, the sound of his voice, husky and deep, sent tingles down Daryl's back. The man chuckled, rolling over to lie on his back with both hands under his head. "No wonder you forgot. You looked shitfaced and out of it, man. And in case you don't remember, last night was fuckin' amazing."

The latter words were uttered in a deep, filthy tone. Those brown eyes darkened with something seductive, locked on Daryl's blue ones like he was watching his prey, as feral as his fingering had been the night before. Knowing he was beet red now, Daryl averted his gaze with a grunt, his hair half covering his face. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he remembered it, how amazing their night had been, even though he didn't remember the man's name. But his voice, his hand, his gaze, everything about him reminded Daryl of the blissful pleasure his body had received. His hard cock nudging his hole, teasing, making him beg, spreading him open, sinking deeper and deeper and deeper into him until a cry had been ripped from his lips...

Daryl stood abruptly, hurriedly snatching his underwear and jeans off the floor to pull them on. His head was throbbing, his stomach turning with nausea, but the worst was his erection starting to grow. He heard the other man let out a small laugh behind him, which shamed him. Daryl ducked his head, struggling to put on his shirt as he sensed the man sitting up and shifting. "You were like a wild animal last night, snarlin' and bitin' down on me and ridin' me hard, and now you're bashful, blushing and hiding away? It's cute."

Before Daryl snapped at him, the strong arms slipped around his waist from behind, pulling him back against the man, bare chest flush against his shirt-clad back, hot breaths tickling his neck. The other man's bigger frame standing right behind him and boxing him in soothed him and agitated him at the same time, kisses on his neck light and wet. The urge to tilt his head, expose more of the skin, give in and let the other man take charge was irresistible, but the headache continued to pound inside his skull and didn't seem to go away anytime soon. Daryl groaned in frustration, head low, hand in his hair.

"Hangover?" The soft huff of laughter vibrated in Daryl's ear before the man pulled away, moving to pick up his clothes. "C'mon, you need water and the toilet."

Turning around Daryl looked at the other man properly for the first time. He kind of seemed to Daryl like who he wanted to be: looking confident, in charge of the situation, with a smug smile on his face and his muscular body relaxed. His masculine exterior might have looked a bit intimidating if it hadn't been for his gentle eyes. They were soft brown, placid, having a calming effect on Daryl. Not mean like his old man, not hard like Merle.

The man, clad only in his sweatpants, walked into the kitchen, and Daryl followed him as looking around curiously, mostly in order to distract himself from the ache in his head. There were several framed photos on the wall in the hallway: pictures of the man as a child with a woman, as a high-school football player with friends, and at work with a curly-haired fellow in uniform that Daryl couldn't ignore.

"You a cop?" His voice was raspy from thirst and with disbelief. He heard the man chuckle. "Yeah, a sheriff's deputy."

Great. Getting drunk and sleeping with a stranger was one thing, but fucking a cop? Well, he would never let Merle know that.

The kitchen was warm and bright, bathed with early morning light that streamed through the windows. Looked neat and well-equipped, as straight out of a brochure as the rest of the house. It was ridiculous to compare Daryl's house with this one. Everything looked perfect and nice, proving his success.

"You have everythin'." Daryl mumbled nonchalantly as he gazed around the kitchen. There was a brief silence before the other man responded, handing a glass of water to him. "I don't have anythin'."

The tone of his voice was calm and flat, void of emotion. Daryl turned to face the man, who was looking out the window, a faint, almost ironic smile on his lips. "I don't know who my dad is and my mom died when I was nineteen. Ever since then I've been workin' hard to prove myself and find my place in the world."

Daryl swallowed nervously, gazing at the man's profile. The side of him Daryl was seeing now was new to him, something that didn't provoke his memories, but so real and sensitive. Genuine enough that Daryl tried to open up a bit as well. "I have a brother. He's everythin' I got."

"He's lucky to have you." The other man looked to him, his smile warm this time. It was Daryl's turn to look away, shrugging. "I reckon Merle woulda been happier and freer if I hadn't been born."

It was totally weird and awkward talking about shit like this with an almost stranger. Daryl had no idea what had made him do it. When he felt the other man coming closer, he lifted his face up, the other's eyes on his as warm and pretty as the sunset. "Sure as hell your brother is happy to have you around, considerin' how much you seem to care 'bout him."

A strong hand on Daryl's shoulder, sliding up to cup the back of his neck, their eyes locked. The man broke the silence with a whisper. "You're a good man, Daryl."

Daryl could feel his face flushing red, could hear Merle's voice in the back of his head yelling: _Stop actin' like a pansy ass and man up, Darylena!_

He wasn't used to being valued for what he was. He had been feeling like he wasn't allowed to be himself, and the man's words made his heart flutter. No one had ever said things like that to him. Now there was a stranger who had just met Daryl and given him more credit than he had received in his life. _This_ was really weird.

When he was leaving the house, the man pushed a piece of paper into his hand. "Call me when you have some time. Oh, by the way," he winked at Daryl slyly, "I'm Shane Walsh. It's been a pleasure to meet you, Daryl."

Daryl barely knew about this man but decided he liked his smile. Big and bright. Innocent like a kid.


End file.
